


Down to Agincourt Comment Fic Snippets

by MollyC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comment Fic, Down to Agincourt, End!verse, Gen, Hell, Humor, pretending to be a couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyC/pseuds/MollyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various snippets that have happened in the comments to the epic.  Presented in each case with the specific inspirations, when applicable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Map of the World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733861) by [seperis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis). 



_Cas (very tired, very bloody, very desperate, kind of crazy) told him this: humans don't kneel for anyone and anything,...and Alistair's Apprentice...remembered how to stand up._

"This is not all you are," Castiel said, and wished for the eloquence the soldiers had never been granted. "You can have it again. I know they said it was destroyed, but _they lie_."

"You could...if I go back, you could." Its grip tightened on its weapon.

"I could," Castiel agreed, and the great burning eyes narrowed. "But I won't."

The pause was agonizingly long. Castiel did not dare to look away, though the shrieks were getting closer. Its wings rattled, and Castiel was sure it was about to attack.

"Even if you do, that's better," it said, and dropped the knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit became "De Profundis", with editing and serious expansion.


	2. Pumpkins

"Susan wants pumpkin seeds," Dean announces before even closing the door behind him.

"Why?" Cas asks. He's doing that thing where he's staring at his laptop like he's trying to set it on fire with his mind, but Dean can tell he's paying attention. It's a skill, being able to tell, and it's one Dean's been cultivating.

"So that she can make a jack o'lantern in October," Dean says, marveling, as he strips off his jacket. "A jack o'lantern. In the _Apocalypse_."

Without looking up, Cas sighs. "Dean, I know for a fact you're aware of the origin of jack o'lanterns."

"Right," Dean says, and rolls his eyes. "They're supposed to scare away evil...spirits." He looks over to see Cas eyeing him over the top of the screen, eyebrows raised. "Uh. Maybe we'll have a pumpkin carving contest, what do you think?"


	3. Ship Wars at Poker Night

_Joseph steepled his brow as he studied his hand. "Well, you know what they say about that. 'His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me,' if you catch my drift."_  Just in case they didn't, he made an illustrative gesture with his free hand.

All the heads at the table turned to him as if controlled by the same wires. Joe fanned out his cards and said smugly, "And raise five."

"No. _Way_ ," Susan said emphatically.

"Dean's not into guys!" Sean said. "I mean he's _really not_ into guys. I should know, man, I tried."

Joe shrugged. "I dunno who's into who--" Everyone groaned "--but if those two aren't sleeping together I'll eat my kippah." He paused to think it over theatrically. "Well, they might not be right now, Dean's probably not, ah, up for it."  Everyone groaned again. "But they were, and they will be again."

"Uh, Joe, how do you know this?" Vera asked. She looked worried.

"Come on," Joe said. "You've seen how they act together--heck, you spend more time with 'em than I do. Tell me those two aren't an old married couple at this point."

"Besides, it's _Cas_ ," Sean said, with the fervency of a man who's fallen in love with a new theory. "Name _one time_ he's gone without sex voluntarily for more than eighteen hours. I dare you."

"He does laundry," said Susan. "They're _sharing clothes_." She looked down at her cards and a wistful expression crossed her face. "Do you think Cas still does that thing?"

" _I_ think I need a minute to appreciate _that_ image," Tricia said dreamily.

Suddenly Vera let out a bark of laughter and clapped her hand over her mouth. Everyone looked at her. "Sorry, just, it's a damn good thing Phil's not here," she said.


	4. It's Awkward When Your Folks Fight.  Makeup Sex Is Worse.

_"Dean? Cas?" someone says uncertainly, and Dean snaps around to see James, Zack, and Mira huddled nearby looking really uncomfortable._

Mira makes very, very sure that they're out of even Cas's earshot before she says, "I thought they were gonna--"

"--fuck right there on the ground?" James says. There's a pause of a few steps.

"Well, at first I thought they were gonna kill each other. But at the end there, yeah."


	5. Interior Decorating

_So several of us watched "The End" recently, and noticed that the curtains in future!Dean's cabin are pink and gauzy, suitable for having euphemistic sex in the light of a dozen tealights before a vaseline-smeared lens. Which...what?_

"So tell me something," Dean says. Castiel tenses a little, an involuntary response to what that elaborately casual tone has led to in the past.

"Yes?"

"Is there a reason the curtains in Dean's cabin are _pink_?"

Mildly puzzled, Castiel asks, "Is that an unusual color?" He's not entirely relieved; Dean has asked utterly horrific questions from more innocuous lead-ins than this.

Dean settles back in his chair, balancing his coffee mug on his stomach. "Not if you're, like, a suburban housewife. It just kind of doesn't go with the whole Apocalypse chic thing you guys have going."

"Dean wanted his cabin to be more private," Castiel replies slowly. Neither of them mentions why Dean might have wanted more privacy in his cabin. "They were available. Now that I think about it, I do recall him saying that he didn't care as long as they were opaque."

Dean snorts and looks at his hands. "Sure, that sounds like him," he says.

Castiel considers for a moment. "Bobby told him they looked right for a princess," he ventures, and is gratified when Dean laughs.


	6. Epidemiology

In one of her early epidemiology classes, Nadia's professor had opened with a little speech, clearly well-rehearsed.

_"Here is the thing to remember about epidemics, ladies and gentlemen: the question is not 'Will someone survive this disease?' Someone **always**  survives the disease. That is why we have sexual reproduction; it means that the people come out different." A pause for polite laughter. "No matter how horrible, how virulent, someone can survive it with nursing, someone can survive it alone, someone's flat-out immune to it. So whether anyone will survive is not the question. The question is  **how many**  will survive, and will they be close enough to each other to rebuild afterwards. That, as they say, is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know."_

Nadia wondered where Professor Mehta was these days, and if there was Croatoan there. She found herself thinking of that speech more and more, as it became clear that no one survived what one of her former colleagues had taken to calling the Rage Virus in the month before he went home from work one day and shot himself in the head. She had reports, she had facts, she had anecdotes and statistically significant data; what she did _not_ have was even one instance of someone who got infected with Croatoan and lived as a rational human being afterwards.

They couldn't do animal testing. No amount of infected blood caused any animal they'd tried to manifest a single symptom; it was like animals' immune systems just didn't even see the virus and it, in turn, ignored them completely. But no amount was  _small_ enough to be safe for a human, a fact that had been firmly established when the seventeenth volunteer--Nadia was fairly sure it still counted as "volunteering" because they were being offered commutation of their sentences in return for the risk--had to be put down after being injected with literally one viral cell.

Just to rub it in, they couldn't make a killed-virus vaccine because they couldn't figure out how to kill it; if the protein shell was intact enough to trigger an immune response at all, it was also live enough to infect, a fact they lost several more volunteers discovering.

She sat in her office, a tumbler of whiskey untouched on the desk in front of her, and contemplated the fact that someone, somewhere, had  _made_ Croatoan. Probably not Dean Winchester; none of the facts about him indicated any kind of scientific or medical background. But someone. Someone had done this; someone had engineered it. It was too perfect to have arisen naturally, and that was leaving aside the utter horror of the effects.

It was enough to make you listen to the rumors of the Devil walking the earth.


	7. Reckless

"Five is two, and that's all I got," Vera said, and pegged it.

"You're still beating my ass," Amanda replied gloomily, studying her cards with furrowed brows.  She looked adorable when she did that.

"You two need to take _that_ shit into the other room," came a third voice, followed immediately by Risa.

"Not my kink," Vera said on reflex, but then she got a good look at her roommate-slash-friend and put her cards down.  "Um...how'd the meeting go?"

Risa took a deep breath and let it out again slowly.  "Dean wants us loaded and on the road by midnight."  Vera reflected sourly that that was probably exactly how he'd phrased it, too.  

“ _Tonight?_ ” Amanda said.  She shoved her cards in Vera’s direction without looking and unfolded herself from the couch.  “I just got off duty.”

Risa held up her hands.  “You’re not going, calm down.  It’s just the patrol leaders, Cas, and, um, there’s something weird going on but we’re not supposed to talk about it.  Dean’s got a handle on it.”

Vera felt a twinge of worry and covered it by looking down at her hands while she reboxed the cards.  Dean, Cas, the patrol leaders and ‘something weird’: there was no way _that_ could end poorly.  But trying to get Risa to understand that Dean having a handle on things wasn’t reassuring even a little bit wasn’t going to work either—if the Jane revelation hadn’t done it, nothing would.

“Rees,” Amanda said.

Risa gave her a painful-looking smile.  “We have something that can kill the Devil.  All we need is to get Dean his shot.”

“And come back to tell us about it,” Amanda said.  “I guess it’s good Cas is going, then.”

Risa snorted.  “Yeah, big help.”  She dropped into the rocking chair and leaned her head back.

“Damn right,” Amanda said.  Vera pretended to be absorbed in putting the cribbage set away.

“I know, I know he’s good, but God it pisses me off that he’s such a _dick_ ,” Risa said to the ceiling.  “Dean tells us his plan, right, and of course it wasn’t good enough for Cas.  Dean says, ‘Are you calling my plan reckless?’ and Cas is like, ‘If you don’t like reckless I could say it’s insouciant.’  I mean, _insouciant_ , who even says that?”  She interlaced her fingers and stretched out her arms.  “I’ll give him this much though: Dean asked him if he was coming and he just said ‘Of course’ like it was obvious.”

Vera closed up the set and shoved it back under the couch, and then stood.  “OK, up,” she said, waving at Risa, who made a tolerant face and rocked forward.  When she was on her feet, Vera bent to hug her.  “I need to tell you one thing,” she said.  They broke out of the hug, hands still on each others’ shoulders.

“Yeah, what?”

“If you don’t come back, I’m taking your fleece blanket,” Vera said solemnly.  She managed to keep a straight face till Risa started to laugh.


End file.
